Deviation
by Tanethius
Summary: Most disagreeably, despite their coercion, Elizabeth insists on going back to Rapture. Robert and Rosalind Lutece turn to the one man they know who can possibly save Elizabeth. An alternate ending to Burial at Sea Episode 2.
1. Surprise

**A/N: I'm a little late to the party, I suppose. Burial at Sea Episode 2 was released over a year ago, but I only just picked up the game recently. And boy oh boy, did it rip my heart out and stomp on it. Like many others I've seen around, the ending of Burial at Sea Ep 2 left me pretty upset and I needed a way to give myself closure – hence this story. It started out as a one-shot, but quickly became a lot longer than I expected. The story has thus been split into several chapters for ease of reading.**

**This story is my way of trying to keep things as close to the original story as possible, while finding a plausible angle through which Elizabeth and Booker can still have a happy ending. Not everything may make sense, of course – this is my way of interpreting certain aspects of the game. You may also find some similarities with the Unbroken series by MasamuneZERO; his stories were what gave me inspiration to put this whole thing together. So, thank you, good sir. **

**I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

* * *

**The Sea of Doors**

Robert Lutece is not a man who is easily surprised – he can count the number of times on one hand, in fact. The first time was when, in the midst of his experiments, he had been contacted by his 'twin sister', in reality an alternate universe's version of himself. One does not ever expect to meet themselves in the flesh, after all.

The second time was when he had been travelling together with one Zachary Hale Comstock. Rosalind was shouting at them through a tear – fitting name, a tear in time and space connecting 2 universes together – trying to convince him to step through with Comstock and the baby girl they had obtained. He had been reluctant, scientific curiosity only goes so far before your survival instincts kick in, after all. Just as he was trying to list the pros and cons of taking the leap of faith, a man shouted from down the alley, and he looked up to see Booker DeWitt charging down at an alarming speed, a terrifying expression on his face.

Robert doubted he would ever forget the shock and terror that filled his mind at that moment, all at once suppressing his doubts and causing him to leap right through the tear without a second thought just as Booker grabbed onto Comstock, yelling that he had changed his mind.

The third time would be the present moment.

"You cannot be serious." He said, somewhat incredulously. The brunette lady standing before him gave him a defiant stare.

"Mr Lutece, I am very serious." Elizabeth frowned. "I wish to return to Rapture."

"And what is your purpose, Ms Com…" Robert paused, seeing Elizabeth's frown deepen into a scowl at the name, "… ahem, what is your purpose, Elizabeth? If you wish to gaze upon your own corpse, let me assure you that while fascinating, it is not a particularly pleasant experience."

"I lack the scientific curiosity of you and your sister, Mr Lutece. I want to find Sally." Elizabeth absent-mindedly rubbed her chest, right where she had been impaled when the Big Daddy hurled her through the wall. The memory of her final moments caused a shudder to run through her body, and her hand fell limply to her side. "I have seen the doors. There is one chance, one way for me to fix all of this."

"How would that matter to you, Elizabeth?" Rosalind Lutece questioned. "The girl is but one of many individuals in an infinite number of universes. Your goal was to eradicate Zachary Hale Comstock from existence. You have succeeded. You could go wherever you wish. The possibilities are endless, and yet you wish to throw your life away on a fool's errand."

"… because I haven't succeeded." Elizabeth's whispering voice gave both Luteces pause. "I wanted to rid the universes of Comstock, of the _monster_ who ran away from his problems, the man who used, blamed, and when the time came, eliminated those around him for his own end."

"Yes, and with the death of Comstock in Rapture, his existence has ceased to be." Rosalind remarked.

"No. Because he lives on… in me." Elizabeth raised her gaze to the Luteces, and even the unflappable Rosalind found herself discomforted by the anguish and pain in the young lady's eyes. "I used Sally to get back at Comstock. And when I had gotten my revenge… I simply left her there. Unless I fix it, I am no better than he was."

Rosalind and Robert exchanged glances. It was apparent to both of them that neither could understand her reasoning. Robert was the first to break the silence, sighing and climbing onto the boat. Rosalind joined him shortly after, and Elizabeth after that. Robert pushed off, straining with the oars as the boat sailed through the choppy waves. Despite himself, he couldn't help the annoyance bubbling from within.

"Are you still not going to help, sister?" He asked.

"If we're going to end up at the same place, I don't see the harm in enjoying the ride." Rosalind smiled faintly.

"Are you being cute?" Robert asked archly.

"I've come around to your way of thinking." His sister stated, after a brief moment's pause. Robert found himself surprised for the fourth time in his life, from a combination of his sister admitting as such, and how the statement had come rather out of nowhere.

"Have you?" He asked curiously.

"Yes. I do believe that one can change things." Rosalind sniffed. "But after all the bother, one often wishes that one had not."

"You're a fatalist." Robert said dourly. He did not much appreciate his sister's words. After all, it had been his idea to, in the words of Elizabeth, 'fix all of this', between the young lady and her birth father. He had thought it his duty at the time – any noble scientist can only call themselves that if they hold themselves accountable for their creations, after all. Otherwise, there would be no difference between himself and madmen like Yi Suchong.

"A physicist?" Rosalind asked, amusement in her voice.

"A fatalist." Robert frowned.

"So was Newton. Especially when it came to apples falling from trees. They always contrive to land with a splat." It sometimes infuriated Robert as to just how detached his sister could be. They were the same person after all, and yet sometimes their way of thinking seemed to be very different. "She left the child to rot." She added.

"Are you implying she's the apple?" Robert asked. The analogy made no sense to him. After all, Elizabeth's fate was of her own choosing – there was no inexorable force pushing her towards her ultimate demise besides her own will.

"I'm implying that she did not fall far from the tree." His sister stated, giving him a strange glance. Robert nodded. That made more sense. In that moment, both of their thoughts were aligned, and he knew of whom Rosalind was referring to – Booker DeWitt. A man who struggled to make penance for all that he had done, a man who never gave up trying to right the wrongs he had unwittingly inflicted upon his own daughter. And now, that very same daughter was trying to do the same for a girl she hardly even knew.

"And now she wants to go back." Robert sighed. It still made no sense to him. While he could understand _what_ Elizabeth was thinking, he couldn't fathom _why_. With her abilities, happiness was well within her reach. Instead, she was throwing it all away.

"I need to go back. To fix what I broke." Elizabeth's voice came from the back of the boat, sounding angry.

"Back to where she has no right to be." Rosalind remarked.

"Back to where she doesn't belong." Robert said with considerable more disdain.

"Doesn't belong?" Elizabeth sounded confused. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Do you want to tell her, brother, or shall I?" Rosalind exchanged glances with her brother again. Robert grimaced, not relishing the duty. He was quickly absolved of it, however.

"Because I died…" Elizabeth breathed, understanding.

"There are rules." Rosalind glanced back at their passenger.

"Even for one such as you." Robert finished. Their thoughts aligned once more, they started finishing each other's thoughts.

"She'll forget."

"All the doors."

"And what's behind all the doors."

"All closed to her now."

"She'll be just like the rest of us."

"Forgetting the past –"

"– the present –"

"– the future."

"I'd wager she won't even remember this conversation." Rosalind commented as the boat drew up close to a lighthouse. She glanced back at Elizabeth once again. "We've arrived."

Elizabeth disembarked, her gaze drawn to the lighthouse's door. She was silent.

As Robert rowed the boat away, Rosalind made one last attempt to dissuade the young lady. "You're trading omniscience and croissants for death and mildew."

"I left Sally to rot. For what? So I could punish Comstock?" Came Elizabeth's voice in response, sounding pained, confused and ashamed. "He was trying to help her, to save her, and I… If I don't make that right…"

"We all have our crosses to bear." Robert said grimly.

"But – there is a thin line between a martyr and a fool." Rosalind finished. There was no response. Elizabeth had already entered the door.

The twins sat in silence for many moments. In the Sea of Doors, time had no meaning – particularly to those like themselves, existing across all time and space. They had borne witness to what was to befall Elizabeth, and simultaneously, the events had yet to transpire.

Rosalind broke the silence. "As you know, dear brother, I take no joy in knowing that she will ultimately come to a grisly end. I have wished, sincerely, that she would find a way, _some_ way, out of that wretched city." Robert noted the faint note of disappointment and sadness in his sister's voice.

"As I said before, dear sister, surely it is better to have died trying. And you must give the young Ms Comstock credit where it is due – her perseverance would ultimately set in motion the events that would give Sally and her fellow young compatriots a chance at normalcy."

Rosalind frowned deeply. "And as I have said in turn, brother, it is better trying not to die. You speak of normalcy, yet Elizabeth has not known that all her life. Surely, when you had us embark on the lengthy experiment to get DeWitt to save his daughter, it was with the intent to give her a chance at a normal life?"

Robert nodded. "And she has it. Anna DeWitt is with her father. Booker DeWitt has his daughter. They have been, are and will be happy together."

Rosalind scoffed. "You know as well as I do that that is an empty notion, brother. Elizabeth is unique – a quantum superposition-"

"Not anymore." Robert interjected.

"Regardless, my statement stands. Elizabeth Comstock remains a unique individual, separate from the existence of Anna DeWitt." Rosalind saw the unhappiness etched across her brother's face, knowing what he was thinking about.

Prior to their arrival in the last universe containing Zachary Comstock, the twins had occasionally spent time observing Elizabeth as she peered through the doors. Her ultimate goal had been to track down any final traces of Comstock, but they had noted that on numerous occasions, she had peered through the same door – to that of Booker DeWitt and his daughter, living together in New York. Her reaction had always been the same – she would smile, a small, heartbreaking sad smile, and she would raise a hand, as if to push open the door and step through, to reunite with her father. But she would always catch herself, shake her head and turn to another door to resume her search.

To say nothing of the one time they had come across her, particularly distraught after observing her father once more. She had sung a song then, a hymn by the name of "Will the Circle be Unbroken", her voice cracking and her tears flowing as she went through the verses until the final one:

_One by one their seats were emptied._

_One by one they went away._

_Now the family is parted._

_Will it be complete one day?_

Even Rosalind, the far more rational and far more stoic of the twins (as she liked to think to herself), had found her eyes stinging at the raw pain in Elizabeth's voice.

"I do not understand her thinking, sister." Robert said, bringing Rosalind's thoughts back to the moment. "Her mission has been completed. Comstock, as you said, is gone. She could have reunited with Booker DeWitt. Why?" Rosalind sighed.

"You ask the same questions that DeWitt once did, brother. I regret that I do not have the answer. If I did, then perhaps I could have dissuaded her from this course of action."

"Perhaps the key is not to dissuade, but to create a deviation." Robert said after a moment. Rosalind glanced askance at him. "We have observed many times before that a single action can result in two universes being very different. What if we were to introduce a variable? To create a deviation? One in which…"

"Elizabeth does not die." Rosalind said thoughtfully. "An interesting proposition, brother. What are you proposing?" Robert smiled.

"I propose we seek out a man whom we both know can be trusted. I speak, of course, of Booker DeWitt…"


	2. A Job

**New York, May 1894**

Booker DeWitt groaned, sliding into his chair in exhaustion. It had not been an easy few months – caring for his daughter and struggling to make ends meet as a single parent, particularly for one with specific skillsets such as his. He had found a job that suited both needs as a bouncer for a rather seedy bar down the street – it allowed him to work late hours when Anna was asleep, and for one who had served in the army, his combat experience and instincts gave him the ability to easily overpower and subdue drunk idiots. He had not wanted to go back to being a private investigator – those jobs often took him away for days at a time, and he could not, would not, leave his daughter behind again.

His thoughts, he found, often drifted towards this very topic. It was hard for him to do otherwise. He was not sure how, or why, but he had retained the memories of his adventure in Columbia. He could remember the many challenges along the way – he remembered breaking Elizabeth out of her tower, he remembered fighting their way through the Vox Populi revolution, and he even remembered his brief traipse into the distant future, where everything had gone very, very wrong.

But most of all, he remembered Elizabeth. He remembered all that she had been through in her life, more than anyone should have to go through. He remembered her naivety, her innocence, and how all that had been stripped away after her time in confinement when Comstock had tried to indoctrinate her via torture.

He remembered the look in her eyes when she pushed him underwater, and held him there until he ceased struggling.

He would never forget that look of terrible loneliness.

And so he had made it his goal in life to give Anna the life both she and Elizabeth deserved. Everything that had transpired had been his fault after all (or was it _will be _his fault?). He stopped drinking and gambling. He would get his life together. For his sake, and hers. She deserved no less.

Booker eyed the door in his office, the door leading to Anna's room, where he had tucked her into bed just a few minutes ago. His shift at the bar would start soon, and he had to get ready. Sighing, wishing he had more time to rest, he pushed himself away from his desk and was about to head to his trunk when a knock came on the door.

"Mr DeWitt?" Booker froze. He knew that voice. He had heard it many times, in his dreams and nightmares, and in his memories. But how could it be? The events that took place would never do so again, Elizabeth had seen to that. Was it just a coincidence then? The knocking came again.

"Mr DeWitt, are you there?" Booker stood still, unsure of what to do. Then he heard another voice.

"I do not see why we have to wait out here in this wretched weather, brother. We could simply open a tear into his apartment and be done with it." Booker closed his eyes. 'Tear'. It was not a coincidence then.

"Because that would merely confuse him, sister. This is not the same Booker DeWitt, after all. He is young now, and as we both know, brash. Who knows how he would react?" The knocking came again, and the male voice repeated its question, sounding a tad impatient this time. Booker frowned. So his memories of Columbia and Elizabeth were not meant to be preserved? He walked over to the door, yanking it open.

"Mr DeW-" Robert's voice trailed off. He coughed, switching to a lower volume. "Ah, Mr Booker DeWitt, I presume?"

"What do you want, Lutece? Come to take my daughter away again?" Booker sighed. He wasn't in the mood to be polite. And truth be told, he rather enjoyed the look of shock that flitted across the twins' faces.

"How… what? How could you…" Booker smiled at Robert's being caught off-guard. _Now you know how it feels_, he thought to himself smugly. "Why don't the two of you come inside?" He stepped aside, beckoning them into his apartment. He noticed the twins share a look with each other, and Rosalind give a tiny, barely noticeable shrug, before they took him up on his offer. Booker shut the door behind them, plunging the office into darkness, barely lit by the moonlight coming in through the window.

"Make this quick, if you please." Booker muttered, returning to his trunk and opening the lid. "I have a job to do."

"Indeed you do, Mr DeWitt, but not the one you had in mind." Rosalind stated. "We've come with a job offer."

"I haven't been a private investigator for some time now. You're asking the wrong guy." Even without Anna to care for, Booker scarcely wanted to get involved in something the Luteces had a part of. His past experiences were still raw, and he often thought of Elizabeth with a sharp pang in his heart.

"Even if the job is for Elizabeth's sake?" The lid clattered close. Booker straightened himself slowly, and when he turned to Robert, the male Lutece took an involuntary step backwards at the storm of barely concealed rage and other unidentified emotions on the young man's face. It was unnerving to Robert, for it was the look of a man who had seen far, far too much in his time, and yet Booker was no more than 20 in this age.

"What did you do to her this time?" Booker growled, his voice low and menacing. "What the hell did you do to my daughter?"

"I assure you, it was not of our choosing that Elizabeth is in her current predicament." Robert said slowly, raising his hands in an effort to calm Booker. "She chose to do this at her own peril, and you are the only one we could think of who can still save her." Booker glared at Robert, his fists and jaw clenched tightly. After a few tense moments, he let out an explosive sigh, and slumped his shoulders. Robert let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"What's happened to her?" Booker's voice was desperate. "What do you need me to do?"

"First, tell me, Mr DeWitt. How much do you remember of her?" Rosalind asked.

"I remember everything." Booker ran a hand through his hair, "The tower, the Hall of Heroes, Comstock House, the Hand of the Prophet… the Sea of Doors. I remember… remembering everything. About who she really is. What I'd done to her." His voice trailed off as a wave of guilt and shame overcame him. "I don't know if she'd ever forgive me."

"Hm." Rosalind made a noise, and Booker glanced at her, "The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You DeWitts are all the same. So focused on redemption and forgiveness. Little wonder your lives are so miserable."

Booker scowled, turning to face her. "What do you mean by that?"

"Your daughter has been on a lone crusade to eliminate every last Comstock across all the universes, Mr DeWitt." Rosalind stated, almost disinterestedly. Booker felt his chest tighten. Oh no…

"No… did she get captured by Comstock again? How could Comstock even still exist? She… drowned me. Before I could become Comstock. He should no longer exist!" Booker didn't even realize he was shouting by the last sentence.

"Comstock existed in one last universe by virtue of a variable." Robert spoke up, "You, Anna, and Comstock are constants. The variable in this case… was your strength. When you struggled with Comstock over Anna, you proved the stronger of the two… but it was for naught. The portal closed. Where in most universes, Anna lost but a fraction of her finger, in this one…" His voice trailed off grimly, and Booker stared at him in horror. "Suffice to say, with the absence of Anna DeWitt, there would be no Elizabeth in his universe to set the events in motion to stop him from being baptized." Booker's eyes filled with rage again.

"So this last Comstock, he's got Elizabeth? I swear to God, if he's done anything to her again, I will…"

"Calm down, DeWitt. Comstock does not have Elizabeth." Rosalind interjected, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she dropped the formalities. "She succeeded. Comstock was killed. He no longer exists in that universe, or any other." Despite his worry and anger, Booker felt a sense of pride. _Atta girl_.

"So… what do you need me to do? What's happened to Elizabeth?" He asked.

"Despite her success, Elizabeth was torn by guilt over how she had manipulated a child, as part of her ploy to eliminate Comstock once and for all." Rosalind replied. "She made quite a big deal of it all, saying that she had to set things right. She's returned to the city where Comstock resided, to find the child and make amends. But that city…"

"It is a wretched place." Robert finished. "Far worse than Columbia could ever be. And Elizabeth is alone. We have seen what is to come. She will not survive the journey." Booker's eyes widened. "That is, if you do not help her."

"Tell me what I need to do." Booker's voice came immediately, without hesitation. "No matter what it takes."

"Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt." Booker froze at the statement, his mind reeling. Could he give up Anna for Elizabeth? As his mind started to agonize over the decision, he noticed Robert quietly chuckling. "Just a jest, Mr DeWitt. We require nothing of the sort." Booker stared, his mind clearing, and he resisted the urge to punch Robert in the face.

"Didn't peg you for the joking type." He grumbled. Robert smiled.

"Existing across all time and space gives you perspective like none other, Mr DeWitt. But that is of little consequence at the moment. To help Elizabeth, you simply need to follow us. I must admit that we do not much understand her rationale in embarking on this mission. And that may be a problem. We need to show you all that has, had and will transpire, that you may better understand her thinking." Booker nodded. Then he paused.

"Who's going to look after my daughter? I can't leave her behind, and I sure as hell can't bring her along…"

"That will be my task," Rosalind said, "And do not worry. Whether you succeed or fail, DeWitt, this will not take long at all."


	3. Observation

**The Sea of Doors**

Booker never imagined that he would ever return to the Sea of Doors again. The sight was as awe-inspiring and humbling as he remembered – millions upon millions of lighthouses, stretching into the distance. Infinite universes. Infinite possibilities. The sea churned in some places, and was calm in others. Tearing his gaze away from the spectacle, he turned to Robert.

"So, what now?" He asked. Robert gave him a sideways glance.

"You are about to embark on a journey through time, Mr DeWitt. You have to see with your own eyes, the events that transpired in this universe. My sister and I do not claim to understand what Elizabeth is thinking, and thus we failed in our endeavor to turn her away from her chosen path of self-destruction." Robert paused, and Booker thought he saw a pained expression on the man's face for a brief moment. "I believe that if there is anyone who can understand why she's doing this, and how she can be saved… it's you."

"Why me? What makes me so special?" Booker asked.

"Because you are her father, and more than that, you are her inspiration. She has been modelling her behavior after your own. And even above all that… you are indeed _special_, Mr DeWitt. Have you not considered how it is possible that you have retained the memories of Columbia and Elizabeth? It is an impossibility – by all known laws of the universe, when you were drowned at the river, that should have been the end of you." Robert turned to face him, his face inscrutable.

"Yet, you are still alive. And you still remember. This phenomenon bears further study, of course, but that is for another time. All I can surmise at this point is that your bond with Elizabeth transcends even time and space itself. And that makes you, among everyone else, the single most qualified individual to save her."

"Well, since you put it that way…" Booker scratched his chin in mild embarrassment, where a hint of stubble had grown. He certainly hadn't considered that he had that special of a bond with Elizabeth. "Shall we get started?" Robert nodded, placing his hand on the door in front of them. It inched open, and Booker was about to step through when Robert grabbed him by his arm.

"That is not necessary, Mr DeWitt. We are here merely to observe."

Booker nodded, and watched in fascination as the events that unfolded in Rapture took place before his eyes. He saw Elizabeth's arrival in Rapture, and saw her trying to blend into the city by reading the various books the city had to offer. He saw her get close to Sander Cohen, a high-functioning sociopath, in order to learn of his role in the child trafficking ring, and about Sally. He watched, his throat tight and his eyes stinging, as Elizabeth sang soulfully, knowing without knowing why that she was singing to him. Then the heartache gave way to rage as he saw Elizabeth enter Comstock's office. _He dares take my name?_

He watched as Elizabeth and Comstock made their way through Fontaine's Department Store, beset by various challenges and dangers. The splicers were a dangerous lot – and many times he had to resist the urge to jump through the tear if only to ensure Elizabeth's safety. He watched as Elizabeth supported Comstock in battle much as she had when they were traversing through Columbia, and his heart ached again.

"I don't understand." He muttered. "She could have easily killed him or left him to die numerous times. Why did she help him along?"

"She wanted Comstock to remember, Mr DeWitt." Robert said quietly. "It would not be enough to simply dispose of him while he had no memory of his sins. She wanted him to remember, and then die with the full knowledge of what he'd done to her." Booker gulped. It reminded him of the time when he had rescued her from the doctors inside Comstock House, of her cold fury and single-minded determination to destroy Comstock.

He had been afraid of her then, afraid of her hatred and what she might become. But, at the same time, it had filled him with a resolve unlike any he had ever known, a resolve to protect her and to keep her from ever having to act upon her hatred. _Fat lot of good that did,_ he thought to himself wryly. _But this time… this time, maybe I can help her._

"And I suspect, Mr DeWitt, Elizabeth could not bring herself to kill Comstock before he remembered. After all, he was, and would become again, Booker DeWitt. His mannerisms were not unlike yours, and I think Elizabeth saw that." Robert gestured at the tear, and Booker saw both Elizabeth and Comstock crouched behind a wall.

"Just call me Booker." He heard Comstock say, and he froze at the familiar words.

"If it's all the same to you, let's leave it at Mr DeWitt." Elizabeth returned coldly. Booker saw Comstock shrug and return his attention to the environment. What Booker saw next, what Comstock missed, was Elizabeth's face softening. Booker saw her mouth his name, and wipe her hand across her eyes before she took a shuddering breath. And as soon as her moment of vulnerability came, it was gone, and her face was once again impassive. Booker wanted nothing more than to step through the tear and comfort her, and shifted slightly. Robert frowned at him, and shook his head. Booker sighed.

He watched as the duo progressed further through Rapture, until finally things came to a head in the Toys section, where Sally resisted and the duo were attacked by a Big Daddy.

"My god…" Booker breathed. "What is that thing?"

"Genetically modified human beings." Robert replied, unable to keep the distaste from his voice, "Horrid creatures. Mindlessly aggressive." Booker didn't reply, captivated by the gunfight as Comstock and Elizabeth fought off the Big Daddy, eventually defeating it. He watched as Comstock again tried to convince Sally to come out from the vent, and his fists tightened as Comstock's struggles grew more desperate, as his yells grew more frenzied. It reminded him of his own struggle with Comstock over Anna, and judging by the look on Elizabeth's face, she was thinking of the same thing too.

Booker watched as Comstock remembered, the memories flooding back into him, the growing look of horror on his face. He watched as Comstock's face twisted in shame and grief, and as the man reached out to Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth… child… I am so sorry…" He whispered hoarsely. Elizabeth stared at him coldly, out of arm's reach.

"No… you're not. But you're about to be." Booker watched in morbid fascination as the Big Daddy impaled Comstock from behind, the giant drill spinning and shredding his body from within. He relished Comstock's screams even as parts of him reeled from the wanton violence. Comstock's corpse crumpled to the ground, and Booker smiled for a moment. The smile was gone a second later when the Big Daddy turned towards Elizabeth ominously.

"Elizabeth! NO!" He yelled as the Big Daddy smashed Elizabeth through a wall despite her cries, impaling her on a rebar. He made for the tear, and was nearly through when Robert lunged forward, grabbing him and just barely managing to pull him back.

"Mr DeWitt! Stop!" Booker heard Robert yell at him, but he couldn't make sense of the words through the haze in his mind. Rage, sadness and guilt tore at him from within, and he was just barely aware that somehow, he had been pinned to the floor. "Mr DeWitt! Please, calm down!"

"Let… go of me!" Booker screamed. "Elizabeth… ELIZABETH!"

"Mr DeWitt! Elizabeth is fine! She's still alive!" Robert yelled, barely holding down the enraged man, yelling and struggling on the floor. At first, his words had no effect, and he repeated himself several more times before they got through to him.

"She's… alive? But how? She… she…" Booker could barely string his sentences together, so distraught was he.

"You forget, Mr DeWitt," Robert panted as Booker stopped struggling. "Elizabeth possesses unique qualities. She is much like my sister and I, existing across all time and space. Her death in that universe merely returned her to the Sea of Doors." Robert grunted, pushing himself off Booker. Booker picked himself up from the floor, his mind still whirling.

"So… she's alive? She's fine?" He asked.

"Yes. But therein lies the problem." Robert replied. Booker looked up in confusion. "You see, Elizabeth exists as a quantum superposition – she is simultaneously all the Elizabeths that have and will exist. When you spoke to her in the Sea of Doors, it was to but one of her many forms. This unique state of existence granted Elizabeth… well, I suppose you could call it immortality. And that would have been fine. However, Elizabeth chose to return to Rapture, to a universe in which she had already died." Robert shook his head, "This collapsed her quantum state. She is now no more than a single entity, a single, and very mortal, human being."

"And what's wrong with that?" Booker asked, not comprehending.

"The issue is that she is now mortal, Mr DeWitt. Mortal in a city that has no qualms about death, a city so wretched that Columbia pales in comparison. She is in danger, as you will see if you care to resume observing. But be warned. It will only get worse from here. I must stress again that you must _not_ interfere yet."

"Why?" Booker demanded.

"While we are trying to save Elizabeth, she obviously has a plan in mind. Should we disrupt that, we would merely remain caught in the circle. She would not be absolved of whatever responsibilities drove her to this mission in the first place. Would you be able to live with that?"

"Better to have made sure she survives." Booker growled. Robert smiled faintly.

"You sound just like my sister. Nevertheless, I would like to see her freed from this cycle of manipulation and self-loathing she seems to think that you DeWitts are trapped in. You will have your moment to save her, Mr DeWitt. That, I promise."

Booker grunted and turned his attention back to the tear, where Elizabeth was now making her way through Fontaine's Department Store, relying only on her wits and stealth to get around the surmounting dangers. He watched as Elizabeth successfully repaired the Lutece Device and returned to Columbia, and realized that she had returned to the moment of the Vox Populi revolution. He heard her voice, soft and whispering, coming from the tear.

"Booker, you there? … I miss you. You were the only one who ever…" Even in the worst of times in Columbia, he had never heard her sound so small, so lonely and defeated. "You were my only friend." His heart broke. It took all he had in him not to walk through the tear then, if only to provide her with comfort, to show her that she wasn't alone. He forced himself to step _away_ from the tear, to take several shuddering breaths and calm himself down. He noticed, almost absent-mindedly, that tears were running down his face.

_I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. If only I'd known… if only I could have been there with you…_

"Mr DeWitt? Are you alright?" Robert asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"… Yeah." He mumbled. He brushed the tears from his face, noting as he did so that his gesture was almost exactly the same as Elizabeth's back during her interaction with Comstock. He returned to the tear. Elizabeth was back in Rapture now. He watched as she entered an office, and place an object atop a giant model of a city. He watched as the building rumbled, and Elizabeth fell to the floor, only to be surrounded by several men and knocked unconscious by chloroform.

The next few minutes were the worst moments of Booker's life yet. He watched in mounting terror and rage as Elizabeth was put through torture, culminating in what the psychopath, Atlas, termed a 'transorbital lobotomy'. Again and again the hammer tapped on the pick, and each time Booker cursed, unable to imagine the kind of pain Elizabeth was going through. He watched as Elizabeth laughed off Atlas's attempts, and as a young female child was brought in. Elizabeth flew into a blind panic, begging and pleading, and it wasn't until Robert silently gripped his hand that Booker looked down to realize that he had been clenching his fists so tightly that they were bleeding.

"Suchong's clinic! It's at Suchong's clinic." Booker turned his gaze back to the tear, where Elizabeth had shouted, pausing Atlas dead in his tracks. He watched as Elizabeth made her way through Suchong's clinic, and took no small amount of pleasure as he watched the mad scientist meet a grisly end. He watched, his heart pounding, as Elizabeth made her way to Atlas with the 'ace in the hole'.

"No… no no no… Don't go there, Elizabeth." He whispered. He knew of people like Atlas. Cold, calculating, and not a shred of remorse in their bones. He would kill her. Booker flinched as the wrench crashed into Elizabeth's head, and she toppled.

"What is this? It's just a buncha gibberish! What does this say, you little whore? Hey, hey, hey! What does this say?" Atlas was yelling at Elizabeth, who lay on the floor, looking dazed.

"It says…" She spoke slowly, the very effort sapping all the energy she had left in her, "… 'would you kindly.'"

Booker watched as Atlas got a gleam of understanding in his eyes, turning away to yell at his men. He watched as he then turned back to Elizabeth again, and with a vengeful yell, struck her once more, rendering her unconscious.

"That's enough of that, I think." Robert said.

"That… asshole." Booker spat. "I will kill him. I'll…"

"You must not, Mr DeWitt." Booker growled lowly, but it died in his throat when he saw that Robert looked almost as unhappy as he felt. "As much as I would like to watch you rip into the bastard…" Robert coughed, seemingly embarrassed by his rare outburst of emotion, "I believe that his survival at this moment is paramount to Elizabeth's plan."

"And what plan is that?" Booker asked. Robert shook his head.

"I do not know. However, I do know this – Elizabeth did not die immediately after this. She regained consciousness, if only for a moment. Atlas _did_ keep his word; Sally was released. For a moment, her memories returned to her, and Elizabeth saw the future she had been working so hard to bring about." Robert's voice grew soft. "She died with a smile on her face. Whatever she saw at the end, her mission must have been a success."

"So, what then? We just leave her to die?" Booker demanded. "Because if you brought me here just to tell me that, then so help me God, I will end your existence right here, right now."

"No need for threats, Mr DeWitt. As you yourself saw, the final step of her plan was to inform Atlas of the activation phrase, the 'ace in the hole'. Once he has that knowledge, whether or not Elizabeth dies is of no consequence to the events that will eventually unfold. That is where you must step in, Mr DeWitt. That is your one and only chance to save Elizabeth's life." Robert gestured, and the two walked towards a lighthouse in the distance.

"I stress again, Mr DeWitt. Atlas must live through your encounter with him if Elizabeth's plan is to be a success. You must find a way to fight him off without killing him."

"It's never as easy as it should be with you Luteces, it seems." Booker grunted. Robert chuckled.

"I will concede to that."


	4. Rescue

**Rapture, January 1959**

Elizabeth glared at the man before her. It seemed impossible that there could exist someone more vile, more twisted than Comstock, but Atlas was living proof of it. "You know what? Andrew Ryan said I was a rube. But he was wrong. I'm not the rube, Atlas. You are. Now, we both know what happens next. Just get it over with." She spat.

Atlas shrugged. "Well, love… if you insist."

Elizabeth's vision exploded into white flashes as a sharp searing pain pierced her head. She gasped, stumbling, and all at once a vision came to her... a broken mirror, a plane… She barely heard Atlas's voice yelling at her, dragging her back into reality.

"What is this? It's just a buncha gibberish! What does this say, you little whore? Hey, hey, hey! What does this say?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes painfully, her head whirling. The pain was unbearable. She opened her mouth, the words coming slowly. "It says… 'would you kindly.'" She vaguely registered Atlas turning to his men, yelling at them about an activation phrase. Her vision dulled. Her head throbbed. Atlas turned back to her, raising his wrench again, and Elizabeth waited for the deathblow to come, too drained to even close her eyes and prepare for the end.

But the blow never came. She watched, her addled mind managing to register some astonishment as a hand suddenly gripped Atlas's, stopping his swing midway. She struggled to see who her savior was, but the effort was too much. Her vision faded to black, and she knew no more.

* * *

"We've got the activation phrase. Now all we've got to do is get that genetic freak on an airplane, and Rapture's ours." Booker stepped through the tear just as Atlas was turned away, yelling at his men, who were already almost all the way out of the corridor. Good. Less trouble to deal with. He unclipped his holster, stepping towards Atlas silently as the man turned back towards Elizabeth, ready to deliver the killing blow. He shot his hand out, gripping Atlas's arm tightly, and saw Atlas turned towards him, his eyes wide with shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my daughter?" Booker growled as he brought his other fist up, smashing it into Atlas's face with a crunch. Atlas stumbled backwards with a cry of pain.

"You!" Atlas yelled, shock evident on his features. "You're Booker DeWitt! But… you died! I saw your body!" Booker realized he was talking about Comstock.

"That's right. I died. I came back from the dead to stop you from killing my little girl." He said menacingly. A lie, and a ridiculous one at that, but he knew from his experiences in war that people were easily fooled when they were caught off-guard. He withdrew his gun, a hand cannon, from his holster, and levelled it with Atlas's forehead. "Now, are you going to walk away like a good little boy," Booker spat the words, "Or do you want a new orifice to suck air from?"

Atlas glared at him, then to Elizabeth. He reached a hand up to his face, dabbing at the blood from his broken nose. He started to chuckle. "You have a mean hook, Booker DeWitt. Fine. I'll go. I have what I need anyway." He tossed the wrench aside carelessly, and turned around. "Enjoy your time with your daughter. You won't have much longer."

Booker did not lower his gun until Atlas was well away out of sight. He sighed as he did so, thankful that the confrontation had gone a lot smoother than he had dared hope. Rushing to Elizabeth's side, he called her name, but she did not respond.

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth!" He whispered desperately. He felt for a pulse, and felt an immeasurable amount of thankfulness when he felt one. But he could not help worry that even that one single blow had been enough to push her over the edge.

"Well done, Mr DeWitt." Robert's voice came from behind. Booker looked up.

"Will she be alright?" He asked anxiously. Robert shook his head.

"I am no doctor, Mr DeWitt. But we have both done all that we can. The rest is up to her, now." Booker nodded, lifting Elizabeth up gently in his arms. He looked over at the corner, where Sally was hiding behind some rubble, her eyes wide with fear.

"Go along now, little girl." Robert said to her, his voice calm and soothing. "Mr Bubbles is waiting." Sally's face brightened at the mention of her Big Daddy, and she disappeared down the corridor. Booker watched as her figure faded into the darkness, smiling to himself, secure in the knowledge that whatever Elizabeth had set into motion, Sally would be safe.

"Come on, Elizabeth." He said to her, "Let's go home."


	5. Home

**New York, May 1894**

Elizabeth woke with a gasp. All the memories came rushing back to her in an instant – the ace in the hole, Sally, Atlas, the wrench… She looked around in panic, her breathing fast and shallow. Where was she? What had happened? Where was Atlas and Sally? Her heart pounded as her eyes shot around the darkened room, the back of her mind faintly recognizing it as a familiar place. A place she had been before…

She heard a strangled gasp from beside her, and whirled around, ready to defend herself from Atlas. Instead, she saw the relieved face of a man, younger than she remembered, but every bit as familiar as her own. A man, whose eyes were filled with tears, his lips twisted into a tremulous smile. A man whose face she had never dreamed that she would see again.

"Booker…?" She asked softly, disbelieving. How could this be? Booker DeWitt, her Booker DeWitt, was dead. She had killed him herself, holding him underwater until his body went limp. She started to speak, to put voice to the questions in her mind, but Booker leaned forward with a sob, and enveloped her in a hug.

"I'm glad…" He whispered, his voice cracking. "So glad. I thought you wouldn't wake up again…" Elizabeth wasn't sure how to react at first, her eyes wide and her mind in shock. But her face softened. It didn't matter for now; she was back with Booker at last.

"I missed you." She returned the hug, tears streaming down her face. "So much…"

"I'm never leaving you again, Elizabeth." Booker replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Not for as long as I live." She nodded, and buried her face into his chest as the sobs wracked her body. Booker held her close, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, warm tears streaked across his face. The two remained in each other's embrace for a long time, staying silent. No words were needed for now. They simply relished in the knowledge that they had been, against impossible cosmological odds, reunited.

"Come, brother." Rosalind said imperiously from the doorway of Booker's office. "Let us leave them to their reunion for now. An explanation can wait." Robert nodded, an imperceptible smile on his face, and the twins disappeared from the room.

"How?" Elizabeth finally asked after many long moments, leaning back from Booker. Booker scratched at his chin.

"I don't really know. The Luteces came to me, saying that I could save you. There was a whole lot of stuff about quantum something-or-another, but… well… I didn't really understand." He finished sheepishly. "I'm sure the twins can explain it better when they're back." Elizabeth nodded, giggling at the look on his face.

"Thank you, Booker. For coming to save me." She said sincerely, wishing there was more she could say to do her emotions justice. Booker smiled. Then he suddenly paused as his gaze fell upon the clock in his office, and he groaned loudly. Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"I missed my shift," Booker groaned, slapping a hand to his face. "I hope they don't fire me…"

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, and then she started to laugh, a lilting, joyous laughter. The silliness of his grouses washed away the darkness and despair that had overcome her during her time in Rapture, when she was all alone and confused. She couldn't stop the feeling of happiness and relief swelling from deep within her, filling every fiber of her being. It felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and even though she could no longer see behind the doors, she knew that she would never need to again. Not as long as she had Booker. Her father, and her only friend.

"Don't know what's so funny." She heard him grumbling to himself. "Got 3 mouths to feed now." He paused as he said that, then turned to her with an unreadable expression on his face. "I mean, you're staying, right?" He asked quietly. Elizabeth smiled broadly.

"If you wouldn't mind," She said in reply, as she leaned in and hugged him again, her tone light and teasing, "I think I'll stay for a while."


End file.
